Jason Ghale
by SmilingJester
Summary: One-Shot. Jason had just settled down after his desperate fight on Rook when his mother passed. She only left him a note and an urn telling him to find something called Lakshmana


**Jason Ghale**

Getting off of Rook island was a simple process compared to this. I had been in Thailand for only ten minutes before our boat was picked up by the police. Explaining things was so simple. My friends told them about how they were kidnapped and I told them that I simply rescued them. They didn't need any details to how I did so. The bandages all over my body and the crazed look in my eyes were all they needed.

The gang booked a trip back stateside the same day. The flight was at noon tomorrow, so I was able to make a stop at the tour guide office and find the man that thought it was a good idea to drop us into a famous pirate infested island.

I left the office feeling better about things, also satisfied that I could use a pen in such a impressive manner! My friends were not aware of my chat with the guide and after my little bro's reaction to my little game in the helicopter, I wasn't going to tell them how Snow White was still going strong in his ways.

These were all simple. The country knew about the pirates, telling them that we escaped there surprised them, but they didn't care that I killed criminals, why would they? No, the hard part was assimilating back into life before Rook.

Riley didn't understand what I did for him, for me. The lives I took, the pleasure I took from killing those bastards. The boy caught a glimpse, but he didn't see what I was really like out in the jungle, didn't see how much I enjoyed the hunt, the fear I brought, the wet feel of blood on my hands, the whole game itself.

The boy didn't understand, I didn't want him to understand. He was my little brother and I had to protect him and to allow him to fall like I did. Well, I'd be a shitty older brother.

The first thing that mom did was give me hug. My hand went to my hidden machete, but I stayed it before anything could come of the action. Riley saw me reach though. Mom didn't.

For the most part, I didn't stick around. I had money, however ill-gotten it was, that I used to rent out a flat in the city. I needed space, needed to calm down before I hurt anyone. I still thought it was Rook and it wasn't. It would take time, but I did come to accept I was finally safe, no one around the corner to kill me, no one that I would have to shove my blade into. It was a sad day when I realized this.

My friends, well the ones left, only Keith saw the dark side of things. Riley, he was a hostage but that was really it. The kid wasn't tortured past my beating. He was just scared and alone for the time it took for me to get him back. Daisy, dear Daisy she got out quick. All she found at the island was a drug using doctor she reminded a bit too much like his late daughter.

Vincent and... Grant. They only saw it for a short time. Vaas made sure of that. Liza was around Vaas too much, nothing good could have come from that. All these friends of mine no longer wanted anything to do with me and I couldn't find myself caring too much. I did hold a blade to their throats after all.

Liza and Keith went to Hollywood. Liza was casted for a movie that looked promising. I was happy for her, I really was.

The pinnacle of the hardship came to bare only a short few months after we came back. Mom had fallen to cancer. It hit her hard and fast. Too fast. Leaving Riley and I as the only ones left of the Brody clan. Dad had died years ago, when Riley was still in diapers. Grant and my dad, well, we had no idea what happened to him.

Being at mom's funeral. All I wanted to do was run away. Go back to the island where I understood things. Where nothing could hurt me anymore. I didn't say anything during the whole thing. Riley said a few words, but I couldn't think of them for the life of me.

I had secluded myself off from everyone after that. My job was that of a bouncer. I was an intimidating guy once I was able to start working out without survival taking up my time. The magic from the tataus kept me improving, but they longed for the hunt again with me.

Checking my mail, I found a box. "To Jason brody." Inside was an urn and I froze when I touched it. This was all that was all that was left of my mom. Holding in my emotions, killing them since warriors did not cry, I picked it out and found a note inside. Shaking hands grabbed the piece of paper.

"Jason my son, I have so much left to say to you and your brother. But I'm out of time. So please, take me back to Lakshmana in Kyrat. Pagan will know where that is. The journey will tell you more than I ever could about your heritage. I love you and I will always be with you and Riley. Take care. - Your mother Ishwari Rhu-Brody, formerly Ghale"

Warriors didn't cry, they kill. This was my mantra as I held my mother's ashes close. 'Warriors killed. We fight and endure, kill and overcome. We do not let weakness show!'

In only two days, I had everything packed and I was off to Kyrat to find Lakshmana. My mom had gave me her final request and I wasn't going to let her down.

The bus bounced over a rock in the rock, but I just continued to stare out the window. "Hey." I turned to see my middle-aged guide into the country looking at me. "Passport." The man stuck his hand out and I handed the man the document. Opening it, he pulled out some money and slid it into the pages before handing it back to me. "Breath, I'll do the talking."

We came to a stop at the checkpoint into the country. The man to my left tapped me on the shoulder with his passport, and I passed it up over a monkey to the next person in line with my own. Outside, I saw some soldiers checking the bottom for bombs while the driver got out with our papers to hand them to the captain.

They seemed to have had a dispute of some kind and the passports were knocked out of his hand. There was a cry at my window and I looked down to see the mirror user had found something under the truck. 'What now?' I wondered absently before the man to my left bust into motion with a buddy and jumped out of the back of the bus. The soldiers opened fire and I casually watched the men get gunned down as I reached for my bag.

A man's head suddenly erupted in a fountain of blood. Checking the driver, I saw him with a pistol, standing tall like an idiot. It came as no surprise that he died for a gunshot to the everything. Then the soldiers turned around and shouted at the man to shoot the bus. "Shit!" I cried as I dropped to the ground. The monkey next to me wasn't smart enough to know what was going on and took a bullet through his little body. They weren't the hardiest buggers, I had killed enough to know that, so it didn't last more than a second.

"Out the back!" I heard my guide cry and lacking any better plan, I did so, flipping out the drop and landing on my feet. Only to have an AK shoved in my face. "Get down, on the ground, now!" The guard roared. I was so tempted to take that rifle and kill him with it, but the black hawk landing next to me stayed my hand, for now.

Out of the chopper came a man, he wore pink slacks, a purple winter coat, and had a bleached head of short hair. Looking at the seen, he placed is face in one of his hands before wiping it down He seemed to take a few deep breaths into his cupped palms as he looked into the sky. After all his troops had dismounted, he finally started forward, giving the captain a point with both his hands, indexes together.

The man stared at the guard before stating, "I distinctly remember saying stop the bus." Ah, the leader had revealed himself to me. He came to a stop next to the captain and boy did that man look scared as he held his shoulder wound that he must have gained from the driver. "Yes, stop the bus. Not shoot the bus." Each word was accented with a gesture of his hand.

The man winced and tried not to shake as the man kept a steady tone. "I'm very particular with my words. Stop. Shoot. Stop. Shoot." Each repeat gained an ounce more malice. "Do those words sound the same?" The man looked down at me, "Do they?"

I thought about answering, but my smartass nature pulled through. "I'd say a little, but the asshole shot at me, so no."

"See, this guy get's it," The pink man said gesturing at me, leaning closer to the soldier. "Now, why did you shoot if I made it clear for you to just stop them."

The man whimpered out, "But it got out of control." He looked away from the man as he said this, eyes clenched shut.

"Got out of control," The leader repeated slowly as he reached into his coat. "I hate when things get out of control." In a swift motion, he had the man byt the scruff of the neck and plunged the blade into his adams apple, judo flipping him down to the ground as the rest of the soldiers watched on.

The knife slid out with a sick sound before it was repeated stabbed back in while the man growled, stabbing with each word. "You had one fucking job and you couldn't fucking do that!" The dying man grasped fruitlessly at the man's hands before he gave a last gasp as the blade was pulled from his throat.

The leader got off him and sat to the side, facing me. He stared down at his shows and in anger, stated, "And I got blood on my fucking shoes!" He looked up and saw my face, which really hadn't changed since the shooting had begun. A look of recognition dawned in his eyes. "At least there's a silver lining. You didn't completely fuck it up." The man slowly got to his feet and leaned towards me, "get up boy. I'd recognize those eyes anywhere..." He helped me up with his bloody hands.

Once we were on our feet, he gave me a grin before pulling me into a hug. I was confused, so I just stood there before he pulled back, hands on my shoulders. "I'm so sorry about this. This was supposed to be..." He looked around at the mayhem. "Well not this." He looked into the bus as if searching for someone. "Where's Grant? You two were inseparable when you were just toddlers."

I glared at him for mentioning my brother so casually, "He's fucking dead. Now, who are you and how do you know me?" The man flinched back when I told him about Grant.

"Grant's dead? That can't be! He made it back for Iraq! Ishwari told me that much!" The man cried.

My anger slightly fell at the sight of the distraught look on the man's face. "He didn't die in Iraq. We were on vacation and our dumbass tour guide had us skydive onto a pirate controlled island. He died while we were escaping the compound they held us in. The cocky son of a bitch that killed Grant let me have a head start which is why I am still here." The man stared at me in disbelief.

"Pirates? Fuck..." the man said, rubbing his head, smearing the blood more along his face. "Where, who?" The man asked, grabbing me by the shoulders, a fire in his eyes.

I smirked at the man. "Don't worry, I made sure the man that did it and everyone else involved was dead. Might have lost a few more people, but... I ended a slave ring in Grant's memory..." I said, rubbing the stump of a finger I had. "Had to, they had all my friends and all."

The man smiled sadly at me. "Well, you're here now. Oh, where are my manners. I am Pagan Min. The king of Kyrat."

"Jason Brody or Snow White to my enemies," I told him, introducing myself in turn.

The man stared at me in his blood-covered visage. "I am terrible sorry about all this. It was suppose to be very simple, but you know. If you give food to monkeys, they just throw their shit at each other. Oh! Would you hold this? I want to get a little... picture." I grabbed the offered knife, only to find it was a pen. Impressive. Pagan searched through his pockets. He pulled out his phone and turned it on. "Right into the camera." I saw myself next to him as he wrapped his arm around my shoulder. "There we are." It clicked and he looked at it. "Awesome."

We watched as the men tied up my guide and set fire to the bus. "Don't worry about a thing my boy. This will soon be behind us ad we'll be off on our grand adventure. Because I! Have cleared my calendar for you! You and I are going to tear shit up!"

A bag started to fall on my head, but I ducked under the soldier doing it and using the pen he hadn't taken back, jammed the bloody end into the man's throat, grabbing his rifle as he choked on his blood. Tearing the pen out, I stared at the men as they leveled their rifles at me. "No one bags my head," I told the people in a growl. "Not unless you want to play a little game with Snow White."

Pagan just laughed and beckoned me to follow him. "Good show my boy! Come along, we are having dinner in the palace." I kept the rifle and pen in hand as I walked towards the man, not eager to test my chances against a squad of armored men without my machete.

Sitting down at the dinner table, I am joined by my guide, an American man and Pagan. My mom's urn was placed on the table next to me at Pagan's urging. Pagan and his man were talking about the man's, Paul, dark secrets and his child. "Well. Again, I am terrible sorry for what happened. This was more what I had in mind, minus the plus one. So introduction! Jason Brody or Ghale if you would have gone by your birth father's name, our guest of honor." He gestured at me. Then he nodded his head at Paul. "Paul, our very gracious host." The next was my guide, who I had no idea what his name was. "The little monkey who I still don't know. And I, of course, am Pagan Min."

"I'm just going out and saying it. Beating around a bush always annoyed me about Hoyt. I don't know or if I once knew you, remember you. Mom told me I wasn't my dad's son, neither was Grant, but she never outright told me who's I was other than her's."

"Ah... I figured. She had some bad memories about your father, the scum sucking shit he was. Ishwari and I go back years. She loved me and I her." The man got up to pace the room, a fondue fork in hand. "She fled to America after... A issue arose in your family away from family. For the longest time, I thought I was to blame, but I realized, it's not me. No, it was the fucking Golden Path!" In one violent motion, he slammed the guide's head onto his plate.

I saw why because his hand followed his head and there was a phone in it. "You know, it takes balls to text while the violent King of a country is talking," I commented to the guide, not really caring about the man. I didn't even know his name.

The king barked out a laugh as his fork found its place in the man's shoulder. "These fucking terrorists, they ruin everything! Like dinner! Jason is right, didn't anyone teach you its rude to text at the table?" The man looked down and told the man, "Let me see that." He gave a few hard slaps to the back of his hand before the man let go of the phone. Taking it, he looked around the room, "Really guys? We're not checking for these anymore?" He looked at it. "Ah, 'I'm with Jason Ghale.'" the man read aloud before nodding to Paul with a smirk. "You'll love this part. 'Help.' A text for help?" The slowly obvious insane man leaned forward and grabbed the fork he had released. "You don't text for help, you cry for help. So, come on, you're going to cry for help." The man used the fork to guide the man up and over to the balcony. "If you're going to do something, do it right. Here we go!"

They stopped at the opening, "Go on... Cry for help. You ruined my perfectly fine dinner with my boy for this, so cry. For. Help." The man gave a weak help that I thought might have been a call for help, but I wasn't too sure. "Aw, pathetic. No. Cry for help."

The man took a breath and called out weakly, "Help..."

Pagan growled, "Like you mean it, man!"

"HELP..." The man repeated a bit louder.

Pagan shouted at him, seeming to coach the hostage on how to yell, "Help! From your diaphragm! HELP!" The king roared at the injured man. The man gave a scream for help nonstop until Pagan shook the fork. "Shhh, shhh, sh. Hear that? Hm. Nothing. I'm afraid no one is going to help you." In one swift jerk, the fork was out of the man's back. "Find out what he knows."

The guards were quick to comply and hustled the man out of the room post haste. Paul was close to follow them. "I'm going out on a limb and saying that he was a member of the Golden Path." Pagan pointed the bloody fork at me with a smile before tossing it to the table.

With a scoff, he said, "Terrorists. Annoying little bastards." He picked up his phone. "Now, please stay here and enjoy the Crab Rangoon. I have to make a call." He started backpedaling out of the room. "I'll be right back." As he left, I heard him say into the phone, "Yuma, we need to talk."

Shrugging, I heard a door close so I did as the man said. I didn't care to follow his command, but he knew my mom and they had loved each other. I have looked past worse flaws than minor insanity to work with people. Hell, I worked with a woman that raped me after she knocked me out until the very end.

The Crab Rangoon was great. Just the right texture and taste. I had to check outside when I heard gunfire, but saw the soldiers handling it, so I didn't really care and went back to enjoying the excellent meal. Same with the cries of my former guide. He had almost gotten me killed by smuggling terrorists with me, so I held barely any sympathy for him.

I was polishing off the last of it when I heard the door to the side open. Pagan came in wearing a different shirt, "Oh, fan-bloody-tastic. You sir, are a gentleman. I sincerely apologize. There were terrorists in the area, they thought they could attack us, yada yada."

"Guerrilla warfare is mighty annoying. Vaas and Hoyt despised me more for how much a nuisance I made myself than how destructive the attacks were to their armies," I replied back after using a napkin to clean any food residue off my face.

The man smiled at this. "The Crab Rangoon though, right? It's..." A cry of pain echoed the building.

Ignoring the whimpering, I told him, "Great. Best crab I've ever had. Anyways, my mother told me to bring her ashes to Lakshmana and well... I have no idea where that is. She said you'd know."

"Great! I do actually, we can go now. Well, c'mon, let's go!" The man lead me outside to a helicopter and we hopped in. "You know... part of me is surprised your mother asked for you to bring her all the way back here."

I shrugged at the man as I belted myself in. I'd been in enough crashes for one life. "Meh. I think Riley told her about what I did on Rook to an extent. She knew I would be able to handle the terrorists. Riley... I would never have allowed him to go somewhere dangerous ever again."

We had a pleasant conversation as we flew across the country. It was a nice trip and Pagan was a funny guy. I told him stories about out life in America and he told me about his life with my mom, Grant and I.

The chopper landed behind a palace. We both hop out of the chopper and walked towards a little shrine. "How much did your mother tell you about your father?" Pagan asked me.

I answered the king as we walked. "Nothing at all. Didn't even know he was from Kyrat."

"Well, I don't throw out the word scum lightly, but your father was. Mohan! The GREAT protector of the Golden Path. Hmph. He was a cunt." Pagan told me as we walked to the shrine. "He whored your mother out, sent her to spy on me. But, alas, we fell in love. Had a child-"

"Wait. A child? Riley isn't your's, so what?" I tried to clarify. I had another sibling I didn't know about?

The man rubbed his eyes. I saw a hint of moisture in them. "You had a beautiful sister. The greatest moment in my life. Oh I loved you all, but this was my princess. My baby girl and that bastard Mohan." The anger in his voice caused even me to be a bit weary of the man. The rage in his eyes reminded me to much of how I was towards Vaas. "He killed my baby girl, your sister, Lakshmana. Which brings us here." We stopped outside the door of the shrine. Inside I saw a picture of a baby girl, no older than one above an urn of ashes. "Lakshmana shouldn't be alone anymore. I'm so glad she can be with her mother again." the man sighed. "If only Grant was here too."

I nodded my head before I grabbed mom's ashes from my waist. Heading in, I placed her next to my sister. Pagan followed me in and stood next to me. "I'll be a while, so please wait by the chopper. I haven't been here since I placed her ashes." I nodded and left the room so the man could mourn.

Leaning against the chopper, it took a few minutes but Pagan was soon walking out of the shrine with a small spring in his step. "C'mon Jason! I need to get my mind off all this, so let's shoot some goddamn guns." I gave him a grin and hopped into the chopper after him.

* * *

><p><strong>And that's a wrap. I had been playing some Far Cry 4 and wanted to make Jason the protagonist. This was suppose to be a long story, but as I got into Jason's character and mindset, I came to realize that he had been through enough shit that the things Pagan did were nothing new to him. Anyways, it ended with the alternate ending instead. I made this in like two hours, so I hoped you enjoyed.<strong>


End file.
